


Yes Asshole, I DO Care About You

by AK_AKA_CB



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Demisexual Pidge | Katie Holt, EVERYONE IS WELL ABOVE THE AGE OF CONSENT GET THAT SICK SHIT OUTTA HERE, F/F, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron), Latino Lance (Voltron), M/M, Multi, Polynesian Hunk (Voltron), Slight Shidge, Trans Pidge | Katie Holt, honestly the only white person is pidge, klance, non-binary Pidge, queer keith, tw: internalized homophobia, tw: transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 19:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13173681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AK_AKA_CB/pseuds/AK_AKA_CB
Summary: For the AU prompt: "You take my parking spot every few days yes I know they're not assigned but that one is MINE"-----------------------------------------Lance couldn't believe it. He couldn't fucking believe it. Some asshole, the same asshole who'd done it exactly seven times already, seven freaking times, had parked in his parking spot- again.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this over a year ago and finally finished it like three months ago but was too nervous to upload it but I figured since I'm no longer an AO3 virgin, I might as well go ahead and get er done.

Lance couldn't believe it. He couldn't fucking believe it. Some asshole, the same asshole who'd done it exactly seven times already, seven freaking times, had parked in his parking spot- _again_.

 

To be fair, there was no rule, or sign of any sorts claiming that particular spot as his, but he had been parking there for over a month now without any problems so basically, under college rules, it was _his_.  
 

“Can you believe it?”

 

Lance was conversing with his friends after class at some poorly lit buffet place not too far from their dorms.

 

“Like I swear the jerk does it on purpose, like he just magically knows the days I'm running late, or really just not feeling it, and he manages to be there, right before me, and take my spot!”  
 

“How do you know he’s there right before you?” Pidge, the youngest of the bunch asked as they reached for a napkin at the inside end of the booth table. “He could be there overnight.”  
 

“I checked to see if it was still hot.”  
 

“Pretty sure all the cars and bikes would be hot, you know because it's late spring and there's this thing called the sun,” Pidge refuted.  
 

“Yeah, and aren't you worried if this guy were to come out and see you messing with his ride?”

 

Hunk, the engineer savvy of the group made his case, “Most dudes hate it when you touch their toys, especially if their rides are as sweet as that one.”  
 

“His ride isn't sweet okay? It’s a hunk of super shiny metal welded onto two wheels. And if I were to bump it with my car, which is just a straight up piece of junk, it would shatter into a million pieces.”  
 

“Why don’t you just ask the guy to park his bike somewhere else?”  
 

“Because Pidge, guys like us don't do that. We wait, and we plan; we come up with clever solutions to problems, right Hunk?”  
 

“Um... I guess?” Hunk shrugged.  
 

“Well,” Pidge rose abruptly, “If that's really how you feel, you can pay my tab, you know, in the way _guys like you_ do.”  
 

“Pidge,” Lance sighed, “You know I didn't mean it like that. Come on,” he huffed exasperated.  
 

“Whatever,” Pidge didn't bother looking back as they waved goodbye over their shoulder.  
 

Lance slumped into the polyester cushion, annoyed. God, how many times was this gonna happen? It's not like Lance hadn't apologized profusely before. Did Pidge have any idea how hard it was to have to constantly think about every single word or phrase and their connotation before they came out of his mouth. For Christ’s sake, he was in the middle of a rant. Friends shouldn't have to censor themselves while venting. Lance spun around to Hunk, catching him right as he stole a fry off his plate.  
 

“Do you think Pidge will ever get over that? I mean geez, way to get someone on a technicality.”  
 

Hunk frowned. “Pidge has asked us, and by us I mean _you_ , several times to be sensitive about this whole thing. Dude’s been through a lot.”  
 

“I get it, okay?” Lance threw his hands up in frustration. “But they’re not the only one that's sensitive about stuff. Like, there’s Shiro, our _hero_ , with his prosthetic arm, and _you_ with your weird stomach and all your feelings, and _me_ with my-”  
 

“Arrogant god-complex?” Hunk supplied, placing his share of the bill on the table. “Yeah, we’ve noticed.”

  
 

* * *

 

Keith Kogane wasn't all that much of a people person; and if his first impression was anything to go by, he was severely lacking in the friends department. Back in high school, he was in with the jocks, complete with a varsity jacket and all, but playing football was really just his ticket into Uni; it’s not like he had money, being parentless since a young age, and he was by no means what you’d call a ‘straight-A’ student. Nonetheless, he managed to keep his GPA high enough to remain on the team; and for him it was enough. He never needed a lot to be entertained or content. He was an expert at existing as a solitary being. At least, that was true up until recently.  
 

He had maybe, sort of, started this little dance with some guy at school. For the longest time Keith would come to class and see this same piece of crap car parked in the same parking space. It was such a common experience, that it became a sort of comfort to pull up every time on his bike, and sure enough, see that dump parked, exactly where it should be.  
 

Now, being rather accustomed to isolation, Keith wasn't very great at socializing; but whom were we kidding? It's no surprise, not many jocks were. So, being the competitive, socially awkward child he was, Keith supposed the best way to prompt and engage in an actual relationship with the driver of this sad, sad vehicle, was to continually piss them off. So, every so often, if he happened to be running a bit early, Keith would park his motorcycle right smack dab in the middle of that particular spot.  
 

Unfortunately, seeing as he was in fact, a socially awkward kid, he was always too anxious to wait around to see this guy’s reaction. So, it didn't really shock Keith at all that he would do everything in his power to bolt as soon as class finished in order to avoid any kind of confrontation. Yeah... he had just begun to see some gaps in his plan's logic. Still, the silly routine was a nice something to look forward to, and at the time, for Keith anyway, it was enough.

  
 

* * *

 

Lance had come up with a fantastic plan, if ‘fantastic’ meant petty and ridiculously pathetic. He decided to willingly park elsewhere for a change and casually wait outside for the parking spot thief to show up; that is, if ‘wait outside’ meant squat in a bush mirroring the actions of some perverted stalker, then yes, Lance was waiting outside for this guy. Lucky for him, the dude showed up rather promptly, which was a blessing. His legs were starting to cramp.  
 

Looking thru the bush’s leaves, his jaw clenched, and Lance, for the second time in a row, couldn't fucking believe it. So this asshole, the asshole who had been taking his spot- who took it seven freaking times- was good looking, because, of course he would be.  
 

“Jesus,” Lance muttered. “What a dick.”  
 

So after the unfortunately attractive perpetrator had been out of sight for a reasonable amount of time, Lance emerged from his hiding spot more cross before. Should he confront him? What would he even say? ‘ _Hey jerk face, stop parking in my spot!_ ’? Yeah, that was sure to work. ‘ _Maybe_ ,’ Lance thought, _‘If I undermine him in some way. Or...?_ ’  
 

Needless to say, Lance payed little attention to the professor’s lecture on the fundamental basics of civil engineering. He couldn't help but stare at the jerk, trying, and failing miserably, to shoot laser beams into the back of the guy’s head. He kept cursing his stupid mullet and stupid bike and stupid attractive face and...  
 

 _‘Fuck_.’

 

Lance quickly glanced down at his lap as the bike rider suddenly whipped around to glimpse at him.

 

‘ _Just ignore him, just ignore...’_

 

Lance took a quick peak forward, and sure enough, the jerk was still looking at him with the most disinterested look on his face.  
 

Not one to back down from a challenge, even a self-imposed one, Lance put on his most competitive and scrutinizing expression and boldly stared back.

 

‘ _Aww yeah, take that dirt bomb_. _’_

 

However, the guy didn’t seem to get Lance's message, because he continued to stare back, this time a hint of confusion apparent on his stupid, perfect, acne-free face. But after another moment of staring contests, the mullet-head turned back around to face the front of the class prompting Lance to put on his signature celebratory smirk early.

 

Because, as it turned out, this idiot was just waiting for the lecture to finish before approaching him, in what Lance would come to call, one of the most uncomfortable moments of his life. Appearing before him, the idiot and his stupid leather jacket and his stupid fingerless gloves just planted himself like a tree and didn't say a word, not one freaking word.

 

The suffocating quiet had gone on for what felt like minutes, although it had probably only been 5 seconds, before Lance broke the silence.

 

"What?!"

 

The attractive stranger continued to state at him blankly.

 

"Do you need something?"

 

Again, silence.

 

"Look, I don't know who you think you are but whatever your problem is-"

 

"Who do you think you are?"

 

Lance did a double take at the interruption.

 

‘ _Excuse him?’_

"What?"

 

"I said," the guy cleared his throat, "I mean, who are you?"

 

"Umm, the name's _Lance_."

 

"…"

 

He tried again for emphasis, “Lance."

"…"

 

"Nothing?!"

 

"Keith," the stranger shrugged before interjecting once more. "I'm Keith."

 

" _Estúpido_ ," Lance muttered under his breathe.

 

"Hmm?"

 

Lance quickly covered by changing the subject, "Listen, I've got a bone to pick with you, _Keith_. You see-"

 

"What?"

 

"Yeah, okay buddy, so here's the deal-"

 

"Wanna talk about it later?" Keith nonchalantly pulled his pack over his shoulder, securing it against his back. "I've got somewhere to be."

 

Lance’s mouth hung open, giving him an incredulous, offended expression. Keith withdrew a pen and a crumpled receipt from his pocket, hastily scribbling down something before handing it off to Lance as he strode away.

 

Needing a moment to recover from his dumbfounded expression, Lance sputtered out, "N-no I don't wanna talk about it later. Hey, where are you going? We're having an argument here!"

 

But whatever piece of argument Lance had left landed on deaf ears as Keith just up and walked away.

 

The Latino gritted his teeth. "What a dick."

  
 

* * *

 

The second time they met was through a mutual friend, much to Lance's dismay. Of course, Shiro just _had_ to invite the guy out with them one night. _Thank Jesus_ there was an abundance of alcohol present.  
 

"Lance," Shiro tapped him on the back, "There's someone I'd like you to meet." He placed his opposite hand on the guy's shoulder. "This is Keith."  
 

Lance bit his tongue in order to avoid saying something he knew he would end up regretting. Luckily, mullet-head Keith stepped in to save the day.  
 

"We've met."

 

Shiro looked surprised.  
 

"Really?"  
 

"Yeah, he kept staring at me in class." Shiro cocked an eyebrow in Lance's direction.  
 

"Is that so?" Lance's cheeks turned pink.  
 

"Yeah well, then this guy practically corners me," Lance deflected.  
 

"Yeah, and then I gave him my number and he never called," Keith shot back.  
 

"… Well, I'm going to see what Hunk and Pidge are up to."

 

Shiro patted both boys on the shoulder.

 

"Play nice, and have fun."  
 

Lance mentally begged him to stay, but it seemed his psychic powers just weren't feeling it today. Frowning, Lance took a swig of his drink, and told himself to, at the least, remain civil.

 

' _Alright, just keep it casual, small talk_.'

 

"So," he gestured to the bar stool next to him. "Can I buy you a beer?"

 

"No thanks, I'm good."

 

‘ _Well, there goes that plan_.’

 

"So you know Shiro?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Um, how'd you meet?"  
 

 

"School."

 

Wow, this guy was really pushing the one-word answers. This was not a great start to their first real conversation. Which, Lance had to care about now because the jerk was friends with Shiro and he really looked up to Shiro, so Lance could only assume Shiro befriended this guy in good judgement.  
 

"Well, what do you like to do for fun?"  
 

"I don't know; I'm usually pretty busy."

 

Lance couldn’t help but groan.  
 

"Look, _Keith_ , I'm gonna be real with you for a moment here; I get that you probably don't wanna talk to me for whatever reason, but notice," he paused, "I'm making an effort here to try and be friendly."

 

Keith looked taken aback.  
 

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me." He looked down and fiddled with his stupid biker gloves as he spoke. "You didn't call."

 

_'Huh?'_

 

“Oh, right! Man, look I was having a rough day then. I was just... _off_ , ya know?"

 

"Oh," Keith seemed relieved at that. At least, Lance figured he was relived cuz saying that at least got him to sit down.

 

"So," Lance stuck out his hand. "We cool?"

 

Keith gave a lopsided grin in return before shaking Lance’s out held hand with his own, gloved one.

 

"Yeah, we're cool."

 

This would prove to be the first of Lance's _many_ mistakes.

  
 

* * *

 

"It's Pidge's turn so get ready for a level of nerd you didn't even know existed," Lance warned Keith as they waited for the last of the popcorn to finish popping in the microwave.  
 

It was movie night, a tradition Shiro and Keith had, dating _way_ back to when they were kids because, _apparently_ , they knew each other then. After Shiro's enlistment however, movie night was put on the back burner and wasn't brought up again until Shiro returned home after his accident about three months ago. Keith had restarted the tradition as a way to help Shiro assimilate into civilian life.  
 

A couple of weeks ago, Shiro had thought to invite Hunk, Lance, and Pidge to join them whenever they could. At first, things were a little awkward; on account of the three knowing little-to-nothing about the other two, aside from Lance and Keith who had, um, _met_ before.

 

"Seriously though," Lance almost burned his hand opening up the freshly popped bag. "You're about to be submerged into full on nerdom."

 

"Hey! I heard that!" Pidge called from the living room area.

 

"Oh please, you know you're proud of it."

 

"Damn straight!"

 

Lance put on a lopsided grin before turning back to Keith.

 

"See what I mean?"

  
  
Gathering up the full bowls of popcorn, Keith returned Lance’s expression.

 

"So, what exactly are we watching?"

 

"Alright," Pidge went to the menu selection. "It's the classic 60s Batman series’ full length movie. It's insanely corny, but it's surprisingly entertaining too."

 

Hunk chimed in from his position sprawled out an edge of the couch.

 

"Do you think Adam West had to do like, weight training and stuff? I mean, it's not like he ever had an eight-pack or anything."

 

"Do you really think abs would make much of a difference?" Keith asked as he passed one of the bowls to Hunk and Pidge, who planned to share, and kept one for Lance and himself alike. "He's punching a rubber shark, I mean he'd still look silly anyway."

 

"Yeah, even I have to agree here Pidge, plastic suit nipples George Clooney Batman looks cooler," Lance plopped down in the couch's center.

 

"Oh, no way!" Pidge retorted, settling crossed-legged on the ground in front of Hunk. "First of all, without Adam West Batman, there wouldn't be George Clooney Batman. Secondly," Pidge held up two fingers. "He's supposed to look a little silly. He's a millionaire, playboy, crime-fighter in a bat outfit! Anyone who interprets that narrative as dark and gritty seriously needs a perspective adjustment."

 

"I say the guy's crazy. The underwear on the outside is just unnecessary. And unless that cape can shield him from stuff or whatever, it's a definite liability," Keith spoke nonchalantly.

 

"Well, well, well look who’s a closet nerd," Lance teased. "Pidge I think you might have some competition."

 

"Oh, that's nothing," a deeper voice chimed in. "Ask him about his alien conspiracy theories."

 

" _Shiro_!" Keith hissed.

 

"What? Don't act as if that isn't your thing. We've been friends longer than some college freshmen have been breathing. I'd say I know you pretty well by now."

 

Keith glared at his older roommate.

 

"Okay, firstly, they're not conspiracy theories if they're true. Secondly, there's so many documented cases of unexplainable cultural events, coupled with the vastness of all the known existing galaxies, multiplied by the semi-concrete theory of the multiverse resulting in the fact that there's no evidence saying there _isn't_ alternative life forms on distant, foreign planets."

 

"Wait, hold up," Lance did a double take. "You're a space geek?"

 

Keith crossed his arms defensively and continued to speak in his deadpan tone. "I just so happen to be a space educated person, yes."

 

" _Dude_ -" Lance couldn't help but stare amusedly at his former ‘nemesis’ all throughout the night. "That's _insane_."

 

* * *

 

It was Thursday night when Lance concluded the reason as to why Keith was so interested in alien stuff could have something to do with the possibility he was an alien himself. Which, considering the behavior of Keith, was not so far a stretch from reality. You see, Keith had this sort of, quiet intensity about him; endearing most of the time, but occasionally, it was, in Lance’s words, "really hella creepy".

 

He wasn’t staring per say, but it was too prolong to be considered glancing; and, being the super friendly guy Lance was, he chose not to comment on it. At least, not when either Keith or Shiro were present.

 

“He just like, _looks_ , at me.”

 

“Okay…”

 

“Hunk, _really_? This is a genuine problem I have here. _¡Es una situación!_ ” Lance nudged his buddy. “Help a friend out."

 

Hunk thought for a moment.

 

“What _way_ is he looking at you?”

 

“I don’t know,” Lance huffed. “That’s my problem; it’s just this _way_.”

 

“Wait,” Hunk paused, “Not like, in _the_ way, right?”

 

“ _The_ way?” Lance was at a loss.

 

“Yeah, you know, like, in _the_ way, the way.”

 

“…”

 

Hunk shot him an incredulous look.

 

“Oh my god!”

 

And _there_ it was.

 

“No, no, no,” Lance shook his head. “There’s absolutely no way, it’s _the_ way.”  

 

“Would that be bad?” Hunk spoke softly, as if he were talking to one of his fragile soufflés. Lance thought about it, unexpectedly seriously, for a minute.

 

“I don’t know man,” he hunched over in his seat. “I mean, I always thought I was, a team player, if you know what I mean. But,” his face scrunched in confusion. “I just never actually thought there would be someone where it could be a reality. How, did _you_ even know?” Lance turned towards his friend, making sure to keep his voice down.

 

“Same as you, I guess.”

 

His larger friend shrugged, as he scooted closer to the distraught boy beside him. “I just sorta figured one day that I liked everyone, in theory that is, and it just sort of came through to reality.” Hunk embraced Lance, cradling his head on his chest. “I just started to think of myself as pan, and it was a normal thing.” He sighed, the echo ringing in Lance’s ears. “Not even my family knows man, but I know…”

 

Lance could tell by the slight shakes and hitches that Hunk was trying hard not to cry; plus, it was sort of, raining, on his face.

 

“Do you think they’d be mad?” Lance asked before he had time to wonder if he should.

 

“Nah man, they’d be… okay with it, I think…” Hunk swallowed harshly. “But if they wouldn’t-” his voice cracked again. “You know how important my family is to me. _Ohana Mau loa, kau a kau_.”

 

“Yeah,” Lance agreed. “ _Familia para siempre_.”

 

Together, they stayed like that for a little while; close enough to hear the other’s heartbeat, to make sure it calmed down.

 

“Hey Hunk,” Lance asked after a minute of stillness.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are you trying to seduce me right now?”

 

“ _Pfft_ \- you wish.”

 

* * *

 

 “So, you’re gay now? Is that what, at this godforsaken hour, you’ve come to tell me?”

 

Pidge glared daggers at Lance from the open crack of their dorm room door. Lance shuffled his feet.

 

“Well, I mean, I know it looks as if I’ve gone mad, or am super wasted or something right now, but I can assure you I am one hundred percent, honest to God, baring my soul to you right now in the name of our friendship.”

 

“Really Lance? Cuz actually, it looks like its three a.m., I have an 8 a.m. class tomorrow and you're queer in more ways than one.” Pidge made a move to shut the door. “Good talk.”

 

“Wait!” Lance pushed his way under their doorframe. “I just- _God_! Why am I such an ass?!”

 

“Well, that’s a question, I’ve asked myself more than once,” Lance’s short, furious friend relented their hold on the door.

 

“Can I come in?” Pidge took several deep calming breathes before begrudgingly answering.

 

“Sure.”

 

It was quiet for a few minutes. Pidge went back to fiddling on some gadget, while Lance perched awkwardly on their bed. He knew from previous experience a pissed-off Pidge was extremely dangerous and highly volatile; and a surefire way to acquire a pissed-off Pidge was to touch anything of theirs without prior permission; just one of the reasons they insisted on having, no, needed to have a single. Yet here Lance was, invading Pidge’s personal space at three in the morning. He was beginning to think this was all a huge mistake when a tired voice shook Lance out of his thoughts.

 

“Why are you here Lance?” Pidge stopped their tech prodding, swiveling around to face their somber friend on the bed. Lance ceased his fidgeting, clenched his eyes shut and prayed this ended up sounding as good aloud as in his head.

 

“I’m sorry,” his voice sounded far-off to him, like it wasn’t even his. “For all the times I didn't listen to you, or used the wrong pronouns or… I never meant to hurt you, but I did. I think I understand that now.” Lance looked up at his friend’s face, their expression unreadable.

 

“Hunk told me what went down at the library last week,” Pidge kept their tone as neutral as they could. “I knew... I mean, I knew about Hunk. He told me a while ago, after I told him I was… you know?”

 

“Did I make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?” Pidge shrugged.

 

“I mean, I wasn’t really trying to hide it after I came out to Hunk. I just wasn’t a hundred percent certain myself. I didn't want to lie to anyone but, I just didn't know what the truth was.” Lance nodded along as Pidge spoke.

 

“And do you know what the truth is now?”

 

Pidge shook their head, “No. No, I don’t.”

 

“But that’s okay?”

 

“Are you _asking_ me?”

 

“I just figured if anyone knew,” Lance explained, “It would be you.” Seeing Pidge’s dismayed expression, Lance quickly added, “Because you're so _smart_ Pidge. You’re smart and _open_ about everything, and you _know_ about this stuff. _Necesito tu ayuda_.” Lance pleaded, “ _Por favor_.”

 

Pidge nodded, “Um… _sí_ ,” before joining Lance on their messy bed, sitting a safe distance away. Pidge wasn’t a touchy-feely person by nature, but remembered how their older brother would comfort them in times of duress. Placing a tentative hand on their friend’s shoulder, Pidge did their best to offer up some relief.

 

“We’re okay Lance. We’re okay.”

 

* * *

 

“So, what do you plan on doing this weekend? It’s a holiday, lots of time off.” Lance elbowed his friend as they walked out of their engineering lecture. Keith shrugged, elbowing Lance right back.

 

“Not sure, it’s not like I _have_ to go home for break, I live up here. What’re you planning on doing?”

 

“I’m gonna go home, visit the fam. Ya know, typical boring stuff.”

 

“I don’t know; the way you describe your family, I couldn’t imagine it being boring.” Lance shrugged, self-consciously readjusting his jacket.

 

“Yeah- they’re an _exquisite_ bunch.”

 

“Well you guys all seem to be close. I mean, I’m not expert on siblingship, or whatever, but you text back and forth and Facetime; that’s a lot more effort put in than most.” Keith smiled. “You're a good brother Lance.”

 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Lance put his hands up in a stopping motion, “I love my family to death, but at Christmas when you got all your older siblings and their kids, plus your younger siblings, and your cousins, and your cousins-in-law, and then you got your cousins-once-removed, it’s crazy. There is no way you’d say what you’re saying now if you went through that process every year.”

 

Lance sighed.

 

“It’s a lot to take in at once.”

 

“Still, you’re never lonely, there’s always someone to help you with anything you need,” Keith pointed out, “It has its benefits.”

 

“I know, I know, but like when I was younger all I could wish was that I was an only child. I just had it in my head that, that would be the life.”

 

“Trust me, it’s not.”

 

“How would you know?” Lance stopped mid-stride. “ _Wait_ , you're an only child?”

 

Keith just nodded.

 

“Then how did you sit through me talking about my family without flipping the freak out?!”

 

“I just thought that was your normal. You seemed so happy; I didn't want to interrupt you. Besides, I like listening to you talk.” Keith grinned.

 

“I mean do you think I’d hang with you if I didn't? Dude, you seriously need an off button. I don’t think I’ve seen you go a minute without talking. Do you ever get tired?”

 

“Heh, yeah, I guess. I mean… Wait, what do you mean you like listening to me talk?”

 

“Like I said,” Keith smirked, “You think I’d stick around if I didn't?”

 

Okay, so maybe, probably, not for sure though, but in some ways, definitely-- Keith was flirting with him.

 

_‘Oh God’._

 

What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to say something flirty back? If he didn't would Keith feel rejected and get the wrong idea? Wait, since when did rejection become the wrong idea?

 

Lance did his very best to clear his throat, choking down any commitment issues threatening to bubble up, and suggested the single dumbest thing he could possibly think of:

 

“You wanna meet them?”

 

Keith furrowed his brow; did the conversation go somewhere he wasn’t aware of? Where did this ‘them’ term come from again?

 

“Meet who?”

 

Lance swallowed hard. Jesus, it was as if he had chronic dry mouth all of a sudden or something…

 

“My family; you know, all my crazy siblings and cousins and parents and…” What the hell was he saying? “I mean since you have nowhere to go on break and I do. I just came up with this idea just now that…”

 

He was rambling wasn’t he? Yeah, he was totally rambling. Well, there went this sorta-kinda relationship. Keith would run the other way, that is, if he hadn’t left in the middle of Lance’s babbling already and... Wait, was he, was he _laughing_?

 

Lance couldn’t help but notice in all the time they’d spent together he hadn’t seen Keith laugh before, like _really_ laugh. The way his head tilted back and his hair shook with each chuckle, the crinkles that formed at the corner of his eyes; it was almost… well, _beautiful_.

 

Keith stopped, practically breathless, still smiling that dumb, stupid smile of his as he answered.

 

“Sure, why not?”

 

‘ _Yep_ ’, Lance thought.

 

‘ _I’m screwed_ ’.

 

* * *

 

Shiro had a dilemma; and unfortunately, Keith had planned to leave for break, which only made Shiro’s problem bigger. Okay, well, his problem couldn’t get “bigger”; if he was being honest, his problem wasn’t even all that “big”, because…  _Pidge_. His problem was Pidge. 

 

Pidge was cool. Pidge was cute. Pidge was…  _a lot_  younger than he was. Which, in his defense, Shiro had _no_  idea about until recently when Pidge's age had come up in one of their group’s movie night discussions. Pidge was 23. Shiro was 29; and within the next month, he would be turning 30. Of course, he knew Keith was around Lance’s age and Keith was 25, so Shiro had originally figured, at the very least, he and Pidge were four years apart. 

 

The second thing regarding Pidge was identity. Shiro knew better than to come out and ask personal questions. He never wanted Pidge to feel as if they had something to prove; he already saw Pidge do everything in their power to prove they belonged in their original friend group. The last thing Shiro needed was to alienate them even further away from whatever relationship they had, and could potentially have. 

 

Which was exactly why at 4 A.M. Shiro was pacing the perimeter of Keith’s garbage-picked couch, much to the annoyance of said roommate, who was most likely praying to God for the patience required in nonviolently dealing with his anxious ass right now.

 

“It’s seven years, Shiro,  _seven_. That’s only three more than you thought,” Keith was draped haphazardly over the sofa, an open book covering his eyes. “Besides, weren’t you the one always telling me ‘age is just a number’?”

 

“That when I was beating you in pickup basketball,” Shiro paused to cross his arms. “This is a little different. Pidge isn’t an open book; there are no rules and trick-shots when it comes to relationships.”

 

“So you want a relationship,  _huh_?” Keith lifted the book, just enough to show the teasing in his eyes.

 

“Don’t make me hurt you.” 

 

Keith laughed sitting up to rejoin Shiro in his incessant need to problem-solve things that weren’t  _yet_  problems, and would most likely, never actually  _be_  problems.

 

“All I’m saying is, you should just talk to Pidge and ask them what  _they_  want. Then, if the feeling’s mutual, no problem; continue. But, if they don’t feel the same way, just cut your losses and keep an eye out for a different fish in the sea, or whatever.”

 

“Easy for you to say.”

 

“That supposed to mean something?”

 

“I would classify meeting someone’s parents as being in a ‘relationship’,” Shiro returned his friends banter, throwing his cheeky choice of word back into Keith’s face. In response, Keith narrowed his eyes, running one hand’s fingers through his greasy hair.

 

“Don’t be so sure.”

 

“Is ‘that supposed to mean something’?” Shiro’s grin broadened, but Keith didn't take any notice. “Keith? Hey, you okay?” 

 

“Hmm, yeah, just thinking,” Keith sighed as he stood. “It’s late, I better get to bed. See you in the morning… or later in the morning I guess.” 

 

“Sure… and hey!” Shiro called after him, “I might be out by the time you leave so, if I don’t see you then, I’ll see you after break.”

 

“I leave in two hours, where could you…?” Keith stopped, putting his hands up. “You know what, I don’t need to know.” He gave his friend a hesitant smile. “Enjoy your break Shiro.”

 

“Thanks, Keith. You too.”

 

* * *

 

Allura Alfor had been the proprietary owner of her father’s bar and eatery for a little over a year now. In that time, she had grown close to none other than Shiro _, a frequent flyer of hers so to speak. Sure, she had a whole list of regulars stretching out from here to Timbuktu, but none of them as gentle as Shiro. Most of her regulars were prone to staring fights or causing scenes- they’d always make some sort of fuss- not Shiro though. There was never an instance where she had any cause to be alarmed as far as he was involved. It was odd; judging from the stories he told her of his past, she expected him to be less levelheaded, more ready to jump to conclusion, but he wasn’t. She admired him quite a bit. In fact, she had even considered making him her business partner. Yes, she had an incredible assistant manager in Coran, the same man who held the position under her father, still Allura wanted to give Shiro something, an opportunity, a gift… anything. She felt that if anyone deserved a lucky break, it was him.

 

The usual chime of the entrance door brought Allura out of her thoughts. 

 

“We’re closed!” she hollered over her shoulder, continuing to wipe down the bar counter. 

 

“Guess I’ll have to come by later then,” a familiar voice answered. 

 

“Shiro! Hey, I haven’t seen you in a while. You plan on coming over during hours anytime soon?” 

 

“Sorry, I’ve been… busy. If now’s not a good time-”

 

“Shiro, I’m kidding,” Allura finished what she was doing, placing her cleaning supplies in a box behind the bar counter. “I’m always open for you. I mean, what I mean is…” Now it was her turn to be flustered. 

 

“Anyway,” she recovered, “What brings you here at this hour?”

 

“Can’t sleep,” Shiro shrugged. “The usual.” 

 

“Well, if you wanna talk about it, Coran and I were gonna have a drink in the backroom, if you’d care to join us.” Allura said casually, doing her best not to let her real intentions show.

 

Yes, Shiro never caused her any trouble, he was great, but that was the problem; he had troubles and he never seemed to want to make an effort to deal with them. Allura had insisted he wouldn’t be burdening her if he needed someone to confide in, to get things off his chest. Keith had told her some stories of what Shiro’s life was like overseas. She was surprised the man functioned as well as he did. She knew he must be struggling, how could he not? Shiro was one of the strongest people she knew; she wished she had a quarter of the grit he did. 

 

“No, no, it’s okay. I just wanted to stop by,” Shiro waved off her invitation. “Thank you though.” 

 

“Oh, well alright. Have a good night, or morning,” Allura called back nonchalantly. She knew she couldn’t force him to open up. It would have to be when he wanted to, and completely on his terms. 

 

“Actually, Allura?” Shiro turned back around. “I kinda came here to ask you something. Do you think... we could maybe... talk somewhere a little more private?” 

 

“Sure! I, mean sure. I’ll just let Coran know to lock up and…”

 

“Actually, he’s welcome too. Either way, two or three heads, is better than one. I could use your help.”

 

“Of course,” Allura smiled, “Anytime.”

 

* * *

 

“Must be nice to have such a short commute to work,” Shiro joked as the trio entered Allura’s apartment upstairs, above the bar. 

 

“Yes and no,” she answered hanging up her jacket on the hook of the back of her apartment’s front door. “It’s great when its miserable outside, but other times it feels like my life is walking in circles. It all seemed much bigger and more fascinating when I was younger.” 

 

“Oh, I remember that quite well actually,” Coran, Allura’s business partner and long-time friend, chimed in from across the room where whilst he fished three beers out of the fridge. “You would run up and down these stairs…Scared the crap out of both your father and me; couldn’t catch up to you, no matter how hard we tried.” He laughed, opening the bottles. “Lucky for me, I’m quite coordinated, otherwise I would’ve gone -splat- just like a flapjack. Aw yes, those were the days.” 

 

“If I remember correctly, you were always falling down these stairs. Father had to put up the railing just for you.”

 

Allura gratefully accepted two drinks, passing one to Shiro who sat on the curvature of the couch, at least two cushion seat lengths away from her. This wasn’t surprising; Shiro was very friendly, but physically very distant. The only person Allura had ever seen in his personal space was Keith, and it seemed Shiro kept even him at bay at times. Still, Allura was glad Shiro wanted to talk. She didn't expect that, much less him willingly going home with her, well, not going home with her in  _that_  regard but you get the gist. 

 

“No, I distinctly remember him putting up that railing for you,” Coran disputed. “He had it installed as soon as you could walk.”

 

Allura just smirked and shook her head.

 

“Whatever you say Coran, you know best.” She teased.

 

“Well, tell you what by the time you're my age, you’ll have earned the right to know best too.”

 

“Until then,” Allura toasted her glass to Coran’s while Shiro fondly watched the pair’s antics. 

 

“You two are too fantastic to be real, you know that?” Shiro took a sip of his drink. “Like the Odd Couple,” he noted. Allura and Coran shared a look. 

 

“Actually,” Coran joked, seating himself next to Allura, on the opposite side of where Shiro was; “It’s a bit more like Will and Grace to be honest.” 

 

Allura stifled a laugh. 

 

“Oh,” Shiro blanked, “I thought the two of you were like family.”

 

“We are. Coran was my father’s business partner, along with my mother. The three of them got along quite well as I understand it,” Allura explained. 

 

“The three of you? I don’t mean to pry, but…”

 

“No, really its fine. Anything you’d ask is something I’ve already answered for Allura. Quiznack, let me tell you, that was incredibly difficult. Having to explain to your partner’s daughter the intricacies of polyamorous relationships.” Coran grimaced, “Not my proudest parenting moment.” 

 

Allura spun around to Shiro, pulling a face as she elaborated. 

 

“He used the word ‘threesome’.” 

 

“It was the first thing that came to mind!” 

 

“I was eleven!”

 

“So? You went on that field trip the year before.”

 

“Yeah that was through school. And those field trip people didn't mention anything whatsoever about threesomes.”

 

“Still, it was sex education.” 

 

“It was about menstruation, that’s it! No sex! No ‘threesomes’!”

 

“Still…” 

 

“Oh my gosh, just stop talking!” Allura’s face was beet red and mortified. She shook her head at Shiro who was presently biting his lip to keep from laughing. “Do you see what I have to put up with? Can you,” she tried to suppress the urge to smile; “Can you believe this shit?”

 

“I’m not gonna answer that,” Shiro glanced down, seemingly most intrigued by the drink in his hands.

 

“I’m only teasing,” Allura made a point to reassure him. “See? We’re totally open, sometimes  _too_  open. So, what’s on your mind?”

 

“Well… a lot of things now.” 

 

Coran snorted at Shiro’s response, practically spitting out his drink. 

 

“Coran!” Allura mocked, “Jeez. I already have my own drink, thank you.” Coran just rapidly shook his head, doing his best to swallow the rest of his drink without shooting any more of it through his nose. 

 

“Unbelievable, the two of you,” the mustached-man whipped his face on his sleeve. “Ugh, god. Shiro, warn a guy will ya? I’d never had guessed you’d be so funny,” he put his fingers up to his nose, which was still dripping. “Excuse me, I’m just going to,” Coran gestured to the mess he made, mostly on himself, “Clean this up. Be right back; don’t start the good gossip without me.” 

 

“We won’t!” Allura called after him. Waiting until her 'second’ father was out of earshot Allura turned back to the man on her couch, “So, Shiro, what's up?” Shiro shook his head taking a deep breath. 

 

“I think I like someone.” Allura's eyes lit up.

 

“Ooh, is it someone I know?” She gasped, enthusiastically. “Is it Keith?” 

 

“No,” Shiro stated. “Why would you think it'd be Keith?” 

 

Allura faltered. 

 

“N-no reason,” stammering, Allura tried to shrug off her embarrassment. “I mean, it’s just I’ve seen you with him more often than anyone else.”

 

“Well, it’s not.” Shiro frowned. 

 

“Allura,” he started, “Hypothetically speaking,” he scooted closer so he could lower his voice, “Do you-? I mean,” Shiro cleared his throat. “Would you ever go out with me, as in romantically go out with me? Do I give off the impression that I would be  _open_  to going out with someone like you?” 

 

“ _Are_  you asking me out…?”

 

“Hypothetically, yes; I mean, I find you attractive and smart and enjoyable to be around, but the ‘someone’ in this regard just isn’t… _you_.” Shiro timidly offered his hand. “I hope we can still be friends?”

 

Allura smiled, taking his hand in hers. 

 

“Still friends. Actually,” Allura confirmed before confiding, “I’m sort of in a relationship myself. It’s complicated, but ultimately undeniable. I  _do_  like you Shiro. And I  _do_  find you attractive. So what exactly is it you’re worried about?”

 

“Well, you just assumed I was with Keith-”

 

“Oh, honestly,” Allura laughed. “Is  _that_  what you’re asking?”

 

“Maybe… is that wrong to wonder?”

 

“Nothing wrong about the question, or the possible answers for that matter,” Allura squeezed Shiro’s palm. “And in answer to your question, I have a question of my own.” 

 

Shiro nodded, allowing his hand to relax in hers.

 

“Shoot.”

 

“Do  _I_  seem gay to you?”

 

Shiro tensed up. 

 

“Is this some sort of trick lesson?”

 

“Perhaps; but first, an answer,” Allura softly demanded. 

 

“I-I don’t want to generalize-” 

 

“Yes or no, Shiro?” She commanded again, this time more firm. 

 

“No! I don’t know, I can’t tell, okay?” Shiro took his hand back as he exasperatedly threw the both of them up in the air. “I can’t tell if you're gay, happy now?” 

 

“And  _why_  can’t you tell?”

 

“I don’t know. Maybe if I was gay myself, or something, I’d be better able to tell.” Allura snorted. 

 

“Not that likely,” she relaxed against her side of the sofa. “It’s probably one of the oddest things trying to flirt with a girl whilst having absolutely no clue if she swings your way.”

 

“Wait,” Shiro mentally backpedaled. “You  _are_?”

 

Allura nodded, “Mm-hmm.”

 

She took a sip of her beer before she continued. “One time, I dated this girl and on our first ‘date’ she gave me a hug at the end, which was sort of odd, but whatever. And then we went on a second date, and a third before she ended that one with another hug and told me I was ‘the coolest female friend she ever had’.”

 

Shiro gave a low whistle.

 

“Ouch.”

 

“Yeah,” Allura grimaced. “Not the best thing for my ego, I can tell you that.”

 

"What's this about your ego?"

 

Coran emerged from the hallway, having cleaned off his face and changed his shirt. 

 

"I was just telling Shiro about Rebecca Taylor. Remember her?" 

 

Coran grimaced. 

 

"How could I forget?" He rejoined the duo on the couch. "You were practically heartbroken." 

 

"I was _not_ heartbroken." 

 

"You cried your eyes out for days." 

 

Allura scoffed. 

 

"It wasn't days."

 

"No, no, it was your first breakup. You were inconsolable. Alfor and I were at a complete loss," Coran rebutted.

 

"It wasn't my first breakup!" Allura looked at Coran incredulously. "She didn't even know we were dating! It can't count as a breakup if the other party is _completely_ unaware." 

 

"But _you_ were aware," Shiro commented.

 

Coran nodded. 

 

"Mm-hmm, and _that's_ what matters." 

 

"Alright," Allura clapped her hand together. "Enough about me, let's talk about you," she turned to Shiro. "After all, you asked for our help and the only thing we've done this far is talk about ourselves." 

 

Coran mock gasped. 

 

"How incredibly rude."

 

"It's fine," Shiro offered, but was met with unconvinced looks. "Really, I mean it. I've been enjoying hearing about the two of you. It's been a while since I've just been able to just sort of sit back and 'enjoy the ride'". He gave a lopsided grin. "Thanks again for having me."

 

"No problem."

 

"Our pleasure." 

 

Allura stood and made her way over to the kitchen, where she fished out another two beers from the fridge. She called to out to Shiro, "Want another?" 

 

Shiro shook his head. "Nah, I'm good." 

 

Allura reached inside the fridge once more before settling on bottled water. Holding it up, she raised her brows as to ask her previous question again. 

 

This time, Shiro nodded appreciatively.

 

"Water would be great. Thanks."

 

"And anything to eat?" Allura pulled out a box of store-bought cookies from a nearby cabinet and brought those back to the couch as well. She set them down on the coffee table in front of the three of them. "They're not going to eat themselves, and if they're here, I'll end up eating them all."

 

"What about Coran?" Shiro asked. He faced the older man on the couch. "Don't you like them?"

 

"When you get to be my age you have to stop liking certain things- it's for your own good." Allura smirked. 

 

"Coran's decided to try dating again, so he's being fairly self-conscious with what he eats." Shiro looked at him. 

 

"Really? How's that been going?" 

 

"Been great! Thus far, nobody's turned me down." Shiro squinted. 

 

"That's wouldn't be because you haven't asked anyone, would it?" 

 

Allura burst out laughing. 

 

" _Bingo_! I keep trying to set up a profile for him online, but he insists on doing it the old-fashioned way." 

 

Coran crossed his arms. 

 

"At least my way doesn't come from an app called 'Grindr'. Could you youth today be any less romantic?"

 

"I don't know how to tell you this Coran," Shiro prefaced. "But Allura's right. Not too many people these days are in it for ' _romance_ '." He offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

 

"Well, what about you?" Coran turned the question around. "What is it you're looking for?"

 

"Honestly?" 

 

Coran nodded. 

 

"I don't know. I mean, I guess it depends on what whoever I'm with wants. That's one of the reasons I wanted to talk."

 

Shiro looked to Allura. 

 

"You've met Pidge, right?"

 

"Pidge?" 

 

"Short, sometimes wears glasses, brown hair," he suggested.

 

"Oh, the small cute one!?" Allura raised her hand up to about Pidge's height. "I remember them. They're a friend of Lance, right?"

 

Shiro nodded. 

 

"Is that who you like?" 

 

"It sounds so high-school when you say it like that," Shiro let out an exasperated laugh. "But, yes. Do you see my problem?"

 

Allura frowned. 

 

"No, not really." 

 

"Well, you noticed Pidge is…"

 

"Is what?" 

 

"I don't _know_! That's my problem. I can't just guess and guess wrong." 

 

"Well, in that case, I happen to know the perfect someone to ask," Coran advised. 

 

"Yeah, yeah," Shiro sighed.

 

"I guess I do too."

 

* * *

 

Pidge was too small. That's the first thing Hunk thought when he found Pidge curled up on his couch. Hell, they were practically the same size as the cushion pillow. Hunk had caught his girlfriend, Shay, fawning over them, making cute kissy noises as she snapped blackmail pictures with her phone.  

 

Lightheartedly pouting, she turned to her boyfriend. 

 

"Can we keep them?" 

 

Hunk stifled his laugh, as to not wake Pidge. 

 

"They are really cute. But, Pidge would probably flip if they heard you say that. They're like a ferocious little Chihuahua when angry." He shivered. "Trust me- you don't know the meaning of true fear until you've faced a pissed-off Pidge." 

 

Shay squinted at the round mass of blankets and pillows before her. 

 

"I don't know," she said, "They seem too cute to be scary." 

 

"Lions are cute," Hunk countered. "Still wouldn't want to square off against one." 

 

"Point taken." Shay conceded. "Will they be crashing here for break?" 

 

Hunk rubbed his chin inquisitively. 

 

"Not sure. I'd have to ask."

 

If he was being honest, Pidge had given no indication either way if they were planning on crashing at his place or on staying back with their family. He wasn't entirely sure of Pidge's home-life living situation, but from what he gathered from their time together, they had a Mom at home, wherever that was, and a father and a brother overseas. Or, was it her brother just came back from duty? Normally, Hunk would simply ask, no big deal; but with Pidge's father having been missing-in-action for over a year, he felt discouraged from bringing the whole subject up. Lord knew Pidge had enough problems of their own to contend with. 

 

Shay wrapped her arms around Hunk's waist, encircling him from behind, and bringing him out of his thoughts. 

 

"Well, I wouldn't mind. I never liked that couch anyway."

 

" _Wait_ \- what do you mean ' _you never liked that couch anyway_ '? What's wrong with it?"

 

"It's lumpy and covered in spaghetti sauce stains."

 

" _Yeah_ , and each one of those stains represents a very special memory."

 

"Oh really?" 

 

"Yes," Hunk argued, " _Really_."

 

"Honestly Hunk, there's at least two dozen- some of which are on the back! First of all, _how_? And secondly, how could you possibly remember each one?" 

 

"What can I say?" Hunk pried himself from her embrace, being sure to flash her some sort of cheesy, soap-opera face. " _I know my sauces_."

 

Shay snorted as she laughed. 

 

"You're lucky you're cute." 

 

"Aww," Hunk cooed, " _You wove me_."

 

Shay nodded, making her way back to their kitchenette to start the two with some coffee. The dawn would be breaking soon. 

 

"Yep," She said, giving him a quick kiss as she passed by. "I love you."

 

* * *

 

Shiro made quick work of thanking Allura and Coran for inviting him in before setting out on his new personal mission to talk to Pidge. Sure, the entire thing could very well ending up blowing up in his face and strain all of his existing interpersonal relationships but hey, what the heck, right?

 

"I'm sure I'll burn those bridges when I get to it," Shiro muttered to himself as he took the stairs, two at a time, up to his and Keith's shared apartment. 

 

Speaking of which, Shiro, so rapt up in his own thought, practically mowed Keith down as he unlocked and swung open their front door. 

 

"Whoa!" 

 

Keith stumbled back, almost tilting over due to the weight of his stuffed gym bag. 

 

"Where're you running off too at this hour? Better question, where're you running _from_?"

 

"Allura's," Shiro answered after a momentary silence. His mind wasn't in conversation mode. 

 

"’ _Allura's_ ’? At _six_ in the morning?" Keith raised a brow. "And just what did the two of you get around to doing?" 

 

Shiro shook his head. 

 

"It's not what you think-"

 

"Hey," Keith shrugged, "No judgement here. I'm actually just about to meet Lance outside. He texted, he's here." 

 

"Oh," Shiro said dumbly. 

 

"I'm going down with him for break. Remember?" Keith supplied gently. 

 

"Right," Shiro answered. "Sorry, my mind's elsewhere right now." 

 

"Yeah," Keith smirked. "I can see that." His smile faltered a bit. "But it's for a good thing right? You don't need me to stay?"

 

Shiro shook his head, patting his friend on the shoulder as he crossed the threshold. 

 

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks buddy."

 

"You sure?" Keith made no sign of leaving. "If you're feeling disassociated…"

 

"Keith," Shiro's voice cut through, "I'm fine. I promise. This is a good thing. You go ahead and enjoy your break with Lance. I'll be alright." 

 

Seeing the uncertainty on Keith's face, Shiro continued. 

 

"Look, Allura, Coran, Hunk and Pidge are all here. I'll be okay if anything were to happen." 

 

Keith nodded, not entirely comfortable with Shiro's reasoning. 

 

"Just promise me you'll reach out if things get bad again, okay?"

 

 Keith was the one to initiate contact this time. Something he rarely did, but felt he absolutely needed to do now. 

 

Surprisingly heartfelt, Shiro drew Keith's handshake into a hug. 

 

"I promise. You two have fun." 

 

Keith smiled, readjusted his bag's shoulder strap, and turned to the door. 

 

"And Keith?" 

 

"Hmm?" 

 

Shiro smirked. 

 

"Use protection."

 

* * *

 

 

"Hey, so I brought some CDs for the car. Yes, I _know_ its old school, but my charger’s fried so I've been using Hunk's but he wouldn't let me take his for this, so I'm trying to preserve battery…but its whatever. Anyway, so the aux cord is back there if you wanna plug your phone in, and I brought some snacks for the ride and-- _why is your face all red_?"

 

Lance was waiting in the parking lot for Keith to haul his greasy ass down there. He expected the guy to be half-asleep and disoriented not wide-awake and all jittery. 

 

"Did you chug five Monsters before leaving your apartment?" Lance looked suspiciously at the passenger beside him. "Or do you have a fear of riding in cars or something?" 

 

"N-nothing," Keith stammered. "It's nothing."

 

His voice actually cracked a bit, which, given any other circumstances, Lance would have totally made fun of, but this just felt _odd_.

 

"O-kay...?" 

 

Keith made a point to look out the window. So of course Lance, not being one to shy away from conversation, especially if it shattered any plethora of suffocating, awkward silences, flipped on the radio, and began his usual jargon Keith had barely begun to understand throughout all their time together. 

 

"So they were all, like, _super_ pissed about this, right? Cuz obviously, Camilla _didn't_ tell them about it beforehand…

 

"So then Brad was all like ' _I thought we had something real_ ' and then Angelina was like ' _Bitch you thought'_ and everyone was like _'Ooh- got em'_ …

 

"Which is funny considering how ridiculous Kim's outfit looked last night, and we're talking _beyond_ Gaga ridiculous…

 

"So I told Pidge no; for the hundredth time, no, they couldn't light the roof of my car on fire in the name of ' _science_ ’-”

 

"Do you think they'll like me?"

 

"I'm sorry- _what_?" 

 

Lance eyed Keith suspiciously; he knew the guy was weird, but this was weirder than usual. Well, weirder than ‘Keith’s weirder than usual’.

 

Keith stumbled around his words. 

 

"D-do you think they'll like me?"

 

"Who?" 

 

Keith sighed, obviously exasperated over something.

 

" _Your family_ Lance." 

 

"Oh? Um," Lance thought for a moment. "Yeah… I guess? They're pretty friendly and like _everybody_ , so yeah. They'll probably like you. Why?" 

 

Lance switched radio stations as they came to a stop sign; all that talking had made his voice tired. And Keith had chosen not say a single word until now, when they were practically there, and then when he does, he's worried about whether or not Lance's family would like him. What'd gotten into this guy?

 

"Hey, um Keith," Lance did his best to tread carefully, "Are you like, worried about meeting my family?”

 

"Well, yeah, I mean it's a pretty big step."

 

Unbeknownst to Lance, Keith was also trying, _and failing miserably_ , to be sensitive about the matter. Neither boy wanted to startle the other, and shatter whatever nice comfortable thing it was they currently had. 

 

"What do you mean a ' _pretty big step_ '?" Lance asked, turning onto his block, "Do you need a minute or something?"

 

"N-no, I can do this. I was just wondering how much you told them."

 

Lance pulled up alongside the curb in front of his childhood home. His mom had already planted her spring flowers, and of course, his family tied a bunch of balloons to two lawn-chairs on the front lawn alongside a cutout ‘welcome back’ sign. It felt good to be home. 

 

Keith, on the other hand, was practically dying. 

 

Lance pulled the keys out of the ignition, and refocused on the nervous passenger beside him. Keith still looked like he had something he desperately wanted to convey. Like maybe, he ate a radioactive eel and it was electrifying him from the inside out, but he couldn’t say anything because then he’d be cursed forever. Who even knew with that guy?

 

"Oh, right. Sorry, you were saying?" 

 

"I asked if you told them." 

 

"Told who?"

 

"Your family?"

 

Speaking of Lance’s family, Lance distractedly waved to his younger cousins and other family members who came running from the backyard down the driveway to greet him and his friend from college. He wished Keith would just spit out whatever it was he was trying to say. Lance knew from a lifetime of experience, that for the next six hours, neither of the two of them would be able to get much of a word in edgewise.

 

"Told my family what?"

 

Keith deadpanned. 

 

"About how we're dating?"

 

"'About how we're dat'- _WAIT WHAT_?!" 

 

Lance jolted sideways into his door. 

 

"We're _dating_?!"

 

"Well, yeah, I thought…" Keith trailed off. 

 

"But-” Lance started, but was cut off by a rapping on his front window. 

 

" _Lance!_ " 

 

" _Welcome home!_ "

 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Lance flashed Keith a guilt-ridden smile. 

 

"Yeah. Um, ' _welcome_ _home_ '? _Heh-heh_." 

 

‘ _Okay, okay_.’

 

Internally, Lance was screaming. 

 

‘ _I done fucked up_.’


	2. two

Pidge did _not_ reply to weird numbers. Pidge didn't even so much as glance at the messages sent to them by weird numbers. Yet, there Pidge was, staring at an open text message from a number they didn't quite recognize. It had been bugging them for the past five minutes now; five solid minutes of what should have been peaceful reading turned into a mental game of Clue. 

 

' _Screw it_.'

 

"Hey, Hunk?" Pidge hollered from their perch on Hunk's couch. 

 

"Yeah, Pidge? What is it? I'm in the shower."

 

"Oh… Kay, never mind then!" 

 

"No, no," the running water shut off, "Just give me a sec."

               

Pidge listened and inwardly winced as she heard the few minor crashes Hunk must've made in his haste to dry off and get dressed. 

 

"Please don't die!"

 

"I'm-” _/thwack/ “_ -fine. Ouch."

 

Pidge face-palmed. 

 

"Okay, okay," Hunk emerged with his hair still dripping wet. "I'm good. What's up?"

 

Pidge made sure to do a double-take. 

 

" _'What's up?' 'What's up?_ ' You nearly kill yourself because I call your name, you drag yourself out of the shower, and it's just ' _What's up_?' _Whyyy_?" 

 

Pidge couldn't help but flail their arms wildly. 

 

"Why do you come running the second I need something? Am I so helpless? I'm not a child, you know. I'm a capable adult! I don't need immediate gratification; I could've waited five measly minutes!"

 

Hunk, true to his nature, stayed neutral and did his very best to look impassive in response to Pidge's outburst. He simply offered a wry smile. 

 

Pidge huffed. 

 

"Fine. _Thank you,_ _Hunk_. Now, do you know whose number this is?" 

 

Hunk glanced momentarily at the screen in Pidge's hand before nodding. 

 

"Oh yeah, that's Shiro's number. Don't you recognize it from the group chat?"

 

"Shiro?" Pidge looked back at the text. "Why would he be texting me?" 

 

Hunk shrugged. 

 

"Dunno. Maybe he wants to ask you out." 

 

"He- _what_?"

 

Hunk defensively put up his hands. 

 

"Like, as in ' _hang out_ ' ask you out."

 

Pidge calmed a bit at that. 

 

" _Oh_." 

 

"Or like ' _date_ ' out." 

 

"Yeah. Wait- _what_? Why on Earth would Shiro do that?" 

 

Hunk ignored Pidge's question. 

 

"He's probably got nothing going on for break. You two should get together, it could be fun."

 

"' _Get together_ '?"

 

"As _friends_ , Pidge."

 

" _Oh_."

 

"Or not."

 

Pidge huffed.

 

"Would you cut that out?!" 

 

Hunk feigned innocence. 

 

"Cut _what_ out?" 

 

" _That_ , ugh! Saying one thing, then saying the opposite." 

 

"I'm not saying anything!" Hunk protested. 

 

Pidge wasn't convinced. 

 

"Look," Hunk began, "I'm just saying-" 

 

" _There_!" Pidge interrupted. "There it is again!" 

 

"-that there's a plethora of options here."

 

" _'Plethora'_? Really?" 

 

Hunk crossed his arms. 

 

"What, you don't like that word?" He teased. 

 

Pidge scowled. 

 

"Okay, fine. I'll admit it could mean a _'plethora'_ of things. But as of now, it’s a random text, it doesn't mean anything!" Pidge shot Hunk an inquisitive look. "Besides, since when does it matter to you what it means?"

 

Hunk shook his head. 

 

"It doesn't. It just matters to my couch."

 

" _Huh_?" 

 

"I'd just want to know in advance if you'd be staying overnight somewhere else, ya know, so that me, my couch, and my lady could have a Netflix and chill night." 

 

Pidge gagged. 

 

" _Ew_. God Hunk, that's too much information."

 

Hunk rolled his eyes. 

 

"Not like _that_. I mean we're seriously behind on our Netflix list. We we're supposed to be finished with _Sense 8_ by now, but we're only on the last season of _Mr. Robot_. That's a lotta ground to cover, Pidge!" 

 

"How is there any connection between _Sense 8_ and _Mr. Robot_?"

 

"Who said there was a connection?" 

 

Pidge sighed. 

 

" _Hunk_ , you know I love you, and it's because I love you why I'm saying this: _you're crazy_." Pidge pinched the bridge of their nose. "You _know_ I'm not interested in anyone like… well, like _that_." 

 

"Maybe Shiro isn't either?" Hunk supplied, trying to be helpful. 

 

" _Hunk_ ," Pidge widened their eyes. "Have you _seen_ Shiro?"

 

"Well, yeah, he's hot." 

 

" _Yeah-huh_ ," Pidge mocked.

 

"But that's no reason to just assume he's _no_ t. I mean, what if he was just to assume your gender?" 

 

"What gender?" 

 

Hunk crossed his arms. 

 

"Pidge, I'm serious."

 

"Okay, okay. Let's say, I reply, we go out. Then what?" Pidge frowned. "There's still gonna be that awkward ' _hey, yeah, by the way, I don't like to fuck_ '. It's annoying."

 

"Annoying for _you_?"

 

" _Yes_!" Pidge huffed. "It takes a lot of energy and time and effort and… What happens if it's all for nothing? What happens if he's not a fellow 1% of the human population? What happens if I’m totally off-base here? _Then what_?"

 

Pidge sighed, solemnly this time.

 

"I don't want to get my hopes up for nothing. I'm fine by myself."

 

Hunk came to sit next to Pidge on the couch. Settling in the middle, Hunk left room for Pidge to clamber onto him like they often would. He learned pretty early on that Pidge had this odd habit of scaling everything. 

 

Pidge sighed once more before sliding over into Hunk's lap. They couldn't help it! Hunk was just so perfect for snuggling. Moreover, he had just showered, so the soapy smell was a nice bonus. Not that Hunk ever really smelled _bad_ ; he just didn't happen to smell _like food_ like usual, which Pidge was grateful for seeing as how they still had yet to eat anything today.  

 

"Damn you and your snuggly body," Pidge cursed lovingly. "You have way too much power."

 

"Well," Hunk began, "Maybe if you had another snuggle partner I wouldn't have so much power." 

 

"I don't think Shiro's looking for a ' _snuggle partner_ ' Hunk. Since when have guys that look like that _ever_?"

 

Hunk _tsked_. 

 

"Again, no judging a book by its cover. Secondly, Shiro's been through more than you know. He's seen some scary shit. I don't think he's one of those people that just goes around forming relationships haphazardly. He's gotta mean it."

 

Pidge half-smiled. 

 

"You think so?" 

 

"There's one way to find out." 

 

" _Ugh_. Yeah, yeah. I know."

 

* * *

 

' _Hey. You staying for break?_ ' – Shiro [Sent 8:04]

 

Pidge sighed, as they triple-checked their reply.

 

‘ _Alright, here goes nothing_.’

 

' _Yeah. Crashing at Hunk's. You?_ ' – Pidge [Sent 8:11]

 

_'…'_

 

Pidge tapped their foot impatiently. 

 

“Fuck!” Pidge smacked their forehead. Shiro lived here for Christ's sake! 

 

Pidge continued to bang their head in frustration.

 

“I'm stupid, stupid, stupid…”

 

_/ding!/_

 

' _Yeah. And Keith left earlier this morning with Lance._ ' – Shiro [Sent 8:13]

 

' _Boy I'd've liked to see that_ ' – Pidge [Sent 8:13]

 

' _Why? They seemed fine._ ' – Shiro [Sent 8:13]

 

Pidge grinned. 

 

' _Cuz you haven't met Lance's family. When he took me home, I spent 48 hours hidden in his shoddy old treehouse. WITH NO WIFI!!_ ' – Pidge [Sent 8:14]

 

' _Yikes. 48 hours straight?_ ' – Shiro [Sent 8:14]

 

' _Yep. To be honest I just slept through 70% of it_ ' – Pidge [Sent 8:14]

 

' _Nice_ ' – Shiro [Sent 8:15]

 

' _Yeah_ ' – Pidge [Sent 8:15]

 

' _Yeah_ ' –Shiro [Sent 8:15]

 

Pidge frowned. 

 

“Okay, so now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

 

_/ding!/_

 

' _Would you wanna maybe grab a bite?_ ' – Shiro [Sent 8:16]

 

' _Sure. When?_ ' – Pidge [Sent 8:16]

 

' _Well, are you doing anything now?_ ' – Shiro [Sent 8:16]

 

‘ _Now?!_ _As in now, now?_ ’

 

Pidge froze. They hadn't showered. They needed to shower, brush their teeth, get dressed… 

 

' _Quick!_ ’ Pidge was panicking. ‘ _Say something!_ '

 

' _Yeah, totally._ ' – Pidge [Sent 8:17]

 

' _Why the fuck did I say that?!_ '

 

' _Great! So, could you meet at IHOP in like half an hour?_ ' – Shiro [Sent 8:17]

 

' _Sure!_ ' – Pidge [Sent 8:18]

 

Pidge nearly choked. 

 

' _WHAT THE FUCK? WHY THE FUCK DID I SAY THAT?!_ '

 

‘ _Great! I'll see you there! :)_ ’ – Shiro [Sent 8:18] 

 

"HUNK I NEED THE BATHROOM!" 

 

Hunk poked his head of his room only to forced back by a flurry of blankets. 

 

"Did you eat those Taco Bell leftovers?" 

 

Hunk shook his head knowingly.  

 

"Aw man, I probably should've taken them out. They've been in the fridge for a week." 

 

" _No!_ " Pidge called, clearly irritated, from the bathroom. "I'm meeting Shiro in half an hour!"

 

"Where?"

 

"At IHOP for breakfast!" 

 

Hunk shrugged. 

 

"I could go for some breakfast."

 

"No, Hunk. This isn't exactly a _group_ thing!"

 

"Yeah, but I could drop you off there on my way to work. Then I could get something to go. All I've had is coffee today."

 

"I don't know if IHOP does that!" Pidge hollered with an edge to their voice. 

 

"Sure they do! Don't worry about it Pidge, I won’t interrupt a thing!"

 

Pidge groaned, taking some time to breathe steady breaths in and out. 

 

"Okay," they said to themselves than anyone else. "I'm okay, it's fine; we're fine, everybody's fine.

 

' _Breathe in. Breathe out._ '

 

"Okay," Pidge met the gaze of their reflection in the mirror. "I got this."

 

"Heck yeah you do!" 

 

Pidge snorted, their game-face officially ruined.  

 

" _Pfft_ \- thanks Hunk."

 

"Anytime."

 

* * *

 

"Man, I missed this," Lance said in between scarfing down his mother's cooking. "There's nothing like it up at Garrison, even Hunk had this gross taco-looking thing in his fridge. Which is weird," he took another big chomp before explaining further. "Cuz Hunk's like, an amazing chef. _Él hace la mejor comida de las cosas más extrañas_ ". 

 

Keith awkwardly nodded his head in agreement. It was basically all he’d done since arriving.

 

"He's a really good engineer, but when it comes to baking, he's like this Einstein-level chemist." 

 

Lance kicked Keith beneath the table. 

 

" _Hmm_? Oh yeah," Keith said. "Hunk's great."

 

"So… _Keith_ ," Lance's Mother, Mrs. McClain turned to her son's friend and honored guest. "How did the two of you meet?" 

 

Keith blinked. 

 

"Oh, um-" 

 

"We had a morning class together. Never again, am I right?"

 

Lance smiled at Keith expectantly. 

 

"Oh, yeah. Right." 

 

Mrs. McClain grinned knowingly. 

 

"You know Lance, I'm sure Keith can answer for _himself_. He must be tired of listening to you talk after your long drive here. Why don't you let him speak?" 

 

Lance blushed. 

 

" _¡_ _Mama!_ " 

 

"Yeah, he talks a lot. But, now," Keith gestured to the people eating and chatting around them, "I see where he gets it." 

 

"Not a big family?" Lance's father, Mr. McClain asked joining the table with a restocked plate. 

 

Keith shrugged. 

 

"It's really just been me for a while now." 

 

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Mrs. McClain began, "I- we didn't know." 

 

Keith faked a smile. 

 

"It's not a big deal. I'm used to it by now. Besides, I've practically always had Shiro, he's my closet friend. Since freshman year in high-school, he's practically been my roommate. He's still my roommate now." 

 

"Oh, so you live off campus?" 

 

"Yeah," Keith nodded. "It's close enough so it's not like the commute is terrible. Lance's dorm is actually a lot harder to get to." 

 

Lance nodded meekly. 

 

"It was a later addition; it's kinda cut off from everything. You have to drive out and around in order to get to the main buildings. But it's not as expensive as the older dorms. They were redone last year." 

 

"Oh, I remember," Mr. McClain nodded. "Last year, your other friend, the little guy,” Mr. McClain made the point with his hands, “He was in the dorms under construction." 

 

"Oh yeah," Lance cleared his hands off with a napkin. "That was Pidge. They still have a single in one of the older buildings, but I think that's best for all involved. They are _not_ a morning person." 

 

His parents laughed. 

 

"Well I'm glad this one you brought is more sociable."

 

" _Mama_ , _¡_ _Deja de avergonzarme, por favor!_ " Lance hissed. 

 

Keith smirked; it was clear Lance was embarrassed, which meant for once, he had the upper hand.

 

"So I'm a better guest than Pidge?"

 

Mrs. McClain and her husband shook their heads in agreement.  

 

" _Absolutamente_."

 

Keith confidently crossed his arms.

 

"I can work with that." 

 

* * *

 

"So…" 

 

Pidge sat opposite Shiro in a window booth of IHOP. Normally, Pidge didn't opt for a seat so close to the outside; a seat in plain view of any passersby. They preferred solitude; besides, all the charger ports were deeper into the belly of the restaurant. What else would they be doing? They certainly wouldn't be caught dead on some half-assed maybe date. This new Pidge was weird. 

 

"I'm not a huge pancake fan, are you?" 

 

Shiro's question interrupted Pidge's train of thought. 

 

"What?"

 

Shiro nodded to the menus on their table. 

 

"What do you normally get?"

 

"Oh, um," Pidge thought for a moment, "Usually pancakes. Why? What do you get?"

 

Shiro made a slight frown. This was not off to a well start.

 

"I'm more of a traditional breakfast guy; eggs, bacon, toast. Not a fan of pancakes. Too sweet." 

 

Pidge raised a brow. 

 

" _'Too sweet'_?"

 

Shiro rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

 

"Yeah, I don't have a huge sweet-tooth. It's okay to think it's odd, trust me. Keith is secretly the complete opposite."

 

Pidge' eyes bulged. 

 

"No way! Keith? Really?"

 

Shiro grinned mischievously. 

 

"Just don't tell him I said that."

 

Pidge snickered. 

 

"Don't worry. I think I can keep it under wraps. Unlike some people…" Pidge’s expression turned sour as they glared at a yellow bug across the parking lot. 

 

"Oh hey," Shiro feigned ignorance, "Is that Hunk's car?"

 

Pidge shot him a look. 

 

"What?" Shiro shrugged. "I honestly had no idea he was here." 

 

"Really?" Pidge challenged. "Not like, even a tiny inkling?" 

 

"An _'inkling'_?" Shiro echoed, pulling a dumb face. "Why whatever do you mean?" 

 

Pidge snorted. 

 

"Seriously- when did you notice?" 

 

Shiro shrugged again. 

 

"As soon as I pulled up." 

 

Pidge groaned. 

 

"I swear I didn't invite him!" 

 

"Hey," Shiro nudged Pidge from across the table. "I don't mind. He can join us if you'd like."

 

"No," Pidge scornfully waved goodbye to Hunk. "He's on his way to work actually." 

 

Shiro nodded. 

 

"So what were your plans today if he was off to work?" 

 

" _Hmm_? Oh, I don't know. Probably just lounge around I guess." 

 

"Don't you have a job too?"

 

"Oh, yeah," Pidge nodded. “It’s just I can work from my computer so…" 

 

"Neat."

 

"Yeah."

 

"Yeah."

 

“So…” Pidge tried again, “What else don’t you like?”

 

 **“** _Hmm_?”

 

Pidge waved over their menu.

 

“Besides pancakes, and other super sweet stuff, what don’t you like?”

 

Shiro smirked.

 

“I thought the question was ‘What _do_ you like?’.”

 

Pidge threw their hands up sardonically.

 

“Well, _either_ way.”

 

“Well,” Shiro thought for a moment, “I don’t like pineapple on pizza, but almost everything else is fine. I absolutely can’t stand loud people on public transportation or overly loud people in general. And I’d have to say my biggest pet peeve is when people don’t put their shopping carts away.”

 

Pidge shot up in their seat.

 

“I know, right?! I mean, there’s always a corral _right there_! How lazy are you?”

 

Shiro nodded vigorously.

 

“ _Exactly_! And it’s never their cars that are hit or damaged. It’s _always_ yours.”

 

Pidge shook their head.

 

“How exactly is that, do you think?”

 

Shiro shrugged, noncommittedly.

 

“Beats me. Karma doesn’t seem to apply there.”

 

“Yeah,” Pidge agreed.

 

“Yeah,” Shiro echoed.

 

Pidge couldn’t help but smile nervously at that.

 

“Um, yeah so, what _do_ you like?”

 

Shiro let out a breath he had almost forgotten he was holding.

 

“Well, I like _you_ … _Talking_ to you, that is.”

 

Pidge huffed at his response’s cover up.

 

“Shiro, why exactly did you invite me out to breakfast?”

 

“You said you hadn’t had any.”

 

“No, no. I mean, why ask me out at all? I get that Keith’s gone, but I’m sure you have other friends-”

 

“Not, not really,” Shiro interrupted.

 

“ _O-oh_ ,” Pidge stammered. “So, you invited me because you had no one else to ask. Okay.”

 

Pidge did their best not to sound dejected.

 

“I get it.”

 

Shiro’s eyes turned downcast.

 

“Actually Pidge, that’s not entirely true. I _was_ sort of wondering, I mean I was just checking to see if _maybe_ …”

 

Lifting up his real arm to do so, Shiro scratched the back of his head.

 

“Man… this did not seem as difficult this morning.”

 

A huge smirk spread across Pidge’s face.

 

“In the mirror?” Pidge finished for him. “Yeah… I don’t know how to tell you this Shiro… But that bitch lied.”

 

“ _Pidge_!”

 

Shiro burst out laughing.

 

“There could be kids here!” He hissed, glancing around.

 

“Oh yeah!” Pidge agreed somewhat mockingly. “’Cuz I’m sure the two stoners in the back are very sensitive to this sort of language.”

 

Shiro just shook his head.

 

“You’re a lot funnier than I thought.”

 

Pidge puffed out their chest.

 

“And you’re a lot less serious than I thought.”

 

“Well,” Shiro’s finger danced around the base of his shoulder where tissue met prosthetic. “There’s the man, and then there’s the myth.”

 

Pidge’s expression reverted to what it was earlier: nervous. 

 

“And the _man_ asked me out to breakfast because…?”

 

“You, know what?” Shiro shook his head. “Let’s just enjoy. We can talk about the serious stuff later,” he picked up his menu for the second time. “I sort of like what we’ve got going on here.” Shiro smiled. “Joking around with you, it’s nice.”

 

“ _Yeah_ ,” Pidge agreed, picking up their own menu.

 

“Yeah, it is.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay! We _need_ to talk.” 

 

Lance suddenly bolted upright in his bed, startling the raven-haired boy that was sleeping on the floor beside him.

 

“ _What_?! Jeez Lance, it’s almost four in the morning! I thought you were a serial killer or something! Don’t scare me like that,” Keith huffed, running a hand through his tousled hair.

 

“Sorry,” Lance winced. “I just can’t sleep.”

 

“Yeah,” Keith agreed. “Me too.”

 

“Really?” Lance perked up. “Why?”

 

“Gee,” Keith’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t know. _Why am I up Lance_?”

 

“Oh right,” Lance shrunk underneath his covers. “Sorry, but this is important.”

 

Keith sighed.

 

‘ _I should be lucky to have gotten any sleep being in the same room as this idiot._ ’

 

“Keith, buddy?” Lance waved his hands. “Anyone home?”

 

“I’m still here Lance,” Keith said, unmoving.

 

“Kay, just a sec.”

 

“Lance, what are you…?”

 

Keith turned his head just in time to see Lance slip out of his bed and clamber down to the floor next to where he was currently settled. Lance reached up and tugged his duvet cover down and smoothed it out over the two of them. Still, Keith didn't bother to move.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Keith demanded, still irritated and practically half-asleep.

 

Lance shrugged.

 

“ _Talking_ , duh.”

 

“’ _Talking_ ’ doesn’t require _touching_ , Lance,” Keith reprimanded.

 

“Well, I’m from a big family, and in my family, it does, so scooch over.”

 

“Fine,” Keith begrudgingly agreed. “But I’m not spooning you, so don’t even ask.”

 

“I wasn’t gonna!” Lance shot back.

 

“Good, cuz I won’t.”

 

Lance huffed.

 

“Not like you’d be good to cuddle with anyway.”

 

“Your point, Lance?”

 

“What were you trying to say earlier, in the car?”

 

Keith stiffened.

 

“What does it matter? I was wrong.”

 

Lance frowned. He really wanted to do the right thing here; god knew he fucked up when Pidge first opened up to him. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake again. Especially not with Keith, he truly didn't want to ruin their relationship, whatever it was.

 

Moving slowly, Lance placed his head back against the pillow Keith was using. Luckily, Keith had shifted his body enough so there was room for each of their heads to rest. Unfortunately, Keith had chosen to shift his weight away from Lance, so Lance was stuck staring at a mess of black mullet instead of Keith’s deep grey eyes. If he could only see the guy’s expression, maybe this would end up being a little easier; but _no_ , _of course_ Keith thought this time as good as any to act all moody.

 

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance tried.

 

Nothing.

 

“ _Keeiith_ ,” Lance tried again.

 

“ _What_?” Came Keith’s snappy reply. “What Lance? Just spit it out already!”

 

“Fine.” Lance sucked in a deep breath.

 

‘ _Here goes nothing_.’

 

“Yesterday, back in the car, you said we were dating,” Lance stopped, taking a moment to hear himself say the words aloud. It felt odd, not necessarily bad, just different; but that’s what Keith was- _different_.

 

‘ _Keith and his weird alien conspiracy theories, Keith and his inability to wear gloves that actually covered his fingers, Keith and his stupid, outdated 80s mullet, Keith and his…_ ’

 

Keith was something else all right. Keith was _his_ something else. Okay, so maybe it was stupid and immature to think of Keith as some sort of possession, but a part of Lance’s mind couldn’t help it. They had spent so much time together recently, doing literally whatever. They didn't even need to talk half the time; they just enjoyed each other’s company. It almost hurt Lance to say it, but Keith had become a major factor in Lance’s day-to-day existence. In a way, Lance had come to rely on him.

 

“Yeah, so?” Keith answered defensively. “Not my fault.”

 

Lance did a double take.

 

“Oh, so you're saying it’s _my_ fault?”

 

“Well, no. I’m just saying if you didn't want me to get the wrong idea-”

 

“What wrong idea?”

 

“That we’re dating!”

 

Keith angrily kicked his blankets off, coming to sit up and look down at a very startled Lance.

 

“You hang out with me all the time! You follow me whenever you’re free! You constantly talk to me about your family and your friends! You’re always saying, ‘ _Gosh Keith, that’s so cool_ ’ or ‘ _Wow, I wish I could do that_ ’!”

 

Keith’s vision was starting to blur, the tears forming and threatening to fall; but he couldn’t. Keith promised himself he wouldn’t cry in front of Lance. Keith swore to never cry in front of anybody; especially not here, not now.

 

“You’re the nicest person who’s ever looked at me like that! The only person besides Shiro who I’ve ever cared about letting go or scaring away…”

 

 Keith’s voice, much like the rest of him, was shaking. He felt so unbelievably angry; so angry with Lance for lying to him like this, so angry with Shiro for not stopping him from making a fool out of himself; but mostly, Keith was angry with himself for letting his feelings get the best of him.

 

He _liked_ Lance. He _missed_ Lance, sometimes even when Lance was still in the room with him.  He… he _wanted_ Lance. So, _of course_ Lance didn't want him. He couldn’t do this. It wouldn’t be fair; it wouldn’t be right.

 

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

 

He ruined it. He ruined their trip, he ruined their friendship; not only that, but he ruined his and Shiro’s friendship with Hunk and Pidge. With one stupid slip-up he had managed to ruin all the good memories the group had made. Keith felt like the biggest loser in the world.

 

‘ _It’s all my stupid fault!_ ’

 

Lance watched as Keith clenched his eyes shut; Lance watched as the tears his friend desperately tried to hold back came sliding down his cheeks.

 

‘ _It hurts._ ’

 

Lance knew it wasn’t supposed to; but oh, it did.

 

 _Keith_ was sorry. _Keith_ felt like the bad guy here. Lance had led Keith on without even knowing it, and now here they were; the two of them, practically on top of each other but still so _alone_ thanks to Lance fucking up. It wasn’t fair.

 

‘ _Who the hell am I, anyway?_ ’

 

Lance couldn’t fathom how it came to this. How this motorist picked his parking space, how out of all the possible people to pick a fight with, Keith just _had_ to choose him. Lance never thought one of his petty arguments he could end up meaning this much to a person, for him to be able to see Keith like this.

 

Keith _cared_ ; Keith genuinely _cared_ about Lance and his feelings. So much so, he came home with him on spring break just to make Lance happy; so much so, his introverted ass had forced itself to spend the last six hours mingling with Lance’s crazy family; so much so, Keith was willing to put his own feelings aside in order to keep Lance happy.

 

‘ _Well, fuck that!_ ’

 

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance raised his head to be nose to nose with Keith. “Keith,” Lance pleaded. “Look at me.”

 

Slowly but surely, Keith’s lashes parted to reveal tired, bloodshot eyes.

 

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance half whispered, “ _I’m_ the one who’s sorry.”

 

Keith shook his head, but Lance wouldn’t have it.

 

“No, no, hold on a second.”

 

Lance grabbed Keith’s arm, locking him in place, before Keith had a chance to pull away.

 

“Look,” Lance started, “This is new for me too, and you’re not… entirely wrong, Keith. It is… it is _my_ fault. I’m sorry. I didn't think about what I was doing, and you got hurt in the process. I hope you can forgive me.”

 

“‘ _Forgive you’_?” Keith scoffed. “Why would you even ask that? You probably can’t even stand to look at me anymore.”

 

“You didn't let me finish,” Lance used his free hand to weave his fingers through Keith’s own. “ _Because_ … I think I’d like to be.”

 

“’ _Like to be_ ’ what?”

 

“’ _Dating’_ , Keith.”

 

Then, they were kissing.

 

Okay, so they never _actually_ got to kissing. Lance did try his best to kiss Keith, but _of course_ , being Lance, he missed and instead managed to slam his forehead up into Keith’s nose, prompting a string of curses from the two of them.

 

Lance was beyond annoyed, and somewhat betrayed that his perfect romantic gesture had been ruined.

 

‘ _See! This is why Hunk should’ve let me practice on him in high-school!_ ’

 

“What the hell was that for?” Keith spoke through his hand as was rubbed his nose, checking for bleeding.

 

“ _Well_ , if you must know, I was trying to kiss you!” Lance cried, rubbing his own battered head.

 

“That was horrible!” Keith half-shouted, half-wailed in response. “First you suck at being my not-boyfriend, and then you suck at being my boyfriend. Just pick a side and stick with it! What the hell’s the matter with you?!”

 

“I don’t know! Why don’t you ask Pidge?!” Lance shrieked back.

 

“Why would I ask _Pidge_?! That makes no sense!”

 

_“Lance! Keith!”_

 

A stern voice scolded from the doorway.

 

“I understand you have your own schedule at school, but your siblings and cousins are trying to sleep!” Lance’s mom, Ms. McClain, cracked open the door to reprimand through it. “Do not wake them up at this hour, yeah? _¡_ _Cállate_ _!_ ”

 

Both boys froze like two hormonal deer in headlights.

 

“ _S-sorry_ ,” Lance muttered, ashamed to have been not only yelled at by his mother in front of his maybe-boyfriend Keith, but for her to have _almost_ been the one to interrupt their would have been first ever make-out session.

 

“I’m sorry too, Mrs. McClain. We’ll keep it down.” Keith mumbled his apology, avoiding eye contact. Lance’s mother could be downright terrifying when angry. It was moments like these, Keith was almost glad he didn't have to deal with that sort of parental guilt.

 

“And Lance?” His mom reproached once again before shutting their door, “Next time, _tú y tu novio está durmiendo en habitaciones separadas_.”

 

Keith waited until Mrs. McClain was out of earshot before he asked.

 

“What’d she say?”

 

Lance gulped.

 

“She said she wants you to stay for summer break too!” Lance squeaked.

 

‘ _Yep_.’

 

Lance was in his very own literal hell right now; but, then if Lance was in hell, how was it he had this angel seated next to him?  

 

‘ _I’m so fucked._ _And know what? I don’t think I care._ ’

 

“ _So_ , um,” Lance smoothed down his hair before putting on what had to be the cheesiest smolder in the history of the universe. He outstretched his hand to Keith. “Wanna pick up where we left off?”

 

“ _Pfft_ ,” Keith snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

 

“Yeah but,” Lance countered, “I’m a _hot_ idiot.”

 

“No,” Keith mischievously smiled, shaking his head, and pulled Lance flush against him. “You’re _my_ idiot.”

 

“Hey, Keith,” Lance said, bashfully avoiding eye contact. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

 

Keith raised a brow.

 

“ _Sure_ Lance. I mean, I _was_ gonna kiss you but-”

 

“No, no, no! Don’t get me wrong, I want that too,” Lance nodded fervently. “But there’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask.”

 

“Okay? Shoot.”

 

“Can you take me on a ride?”

 

Keith face-palmed.

 

“Jesus Lance! Your siblings are _literally_ sleeping in the _next room_.”

 

“ _No_!” Lance squawked, his cheeks flushed crimson. “Not like _that_! _Well I mean unless you’d wanna…_ _No_! Never mind! I just mean, for like a ride on your bike, maybe, one of these days, when we get back?”

 

“On my bike?” Keith reiterated. “You sure?”

 

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, “It is a piece of crap-”

 

“ _Hey_!” Keith butted in. “Don’t talk about Red like that!”

 

Lance held his hands up in surrender.

 

“Okay, okay. Just think about it, for me?”

 

“ _Hmm_ , I guess it wouldn’t hurt…” Keith purposely trailed off.

 

“ _But_?” Lance supplied.

 

Keith smirked.

 

“‘ _But’_ … you’d have to kiss me first.”

 

Lance sighed melodramatically.

 

“Well, if I _must_ ,” he smiled. “I guess it wouldn’t be _too_ bad.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Keith asked, inching closer.

 

“Yeah,” Lance answer, his nose brushing against Keith’s.

 

‘ _Not bad at all._ ’

 

**Author's Note:**

> I uploaded this with the following Part 2 at the same time. Go ahead and continue; they’re meant to be read together.  
> Also I apologize for any grammar mistakes as well as any translation mistakes. I have only a semester of high school Spanish to my name, so please let me know if anything needs correction.


End file.
